Different Paths
by cedari
Summary: Update 5: what if everybody you ever loved was gone and the only person that made you feel anything was the person you should hate the most. (evanescence song fics)
1. Everybody's fool

Different Paths By Cedar1 

A/N Hello! I know this is really bad, starting a new fic type thing when I haven't updated my others in ages ( they will cum I promise!). But I had this idea and it just wouldn't leave me alone. Bascially this fic will be 11 **separate **song fics, all based on the songs from the fab Evanescence album ' fallen'. Each fic will focus on the Hr/D relationship from a different angle. They may just jump into the situation so don't expect lengthy explanations and details. 

Warning: this is my first attempt at song fics and I'm really sorry if I don't interpret the songs perfectly, I'll do my best thou. I'm going to rate this as a PG-13 but I can't say that the rating won't go up when I do the other songs. 

**Pleeaaaaaaaase review after reading, and put a chessy grin on my face! Cheers!**

Now enough of my babble, hope it's alrite!

Disclaimer: Harry potter and friends belong to that clever fox JK Rowling, and the songs, which are quoted in bold and italics, and inspiration come from the equally fab Evanescence album "Fallen"

Everybody's Fool 

            Nobody took notice of the tall man cloaked in the hooded robes. The heavy black material shielded the telltale strands of fine platinum hair from the gazes of the guests; and besides there was much more to entertain the eyes. The hall had been decorated to perfection; banners of gold and maroon hung proudly on the walls – a reminder of the three heroes' origins, the brilliant glow from the millions of candles that littered the room only highlighted the happy faces of the wizards and witches as they feasted on the wine and food that never seemed to finish. But the piece de resistance had to be the gallery of photographs displayed in one corner. In truth it was more like a shrine. A homage to the 'three greatest wizards of the century', words taken from the one and only daily prophet. This itself was only one description of his former classmates, the words 'saints' and 'saviours' would also often make an appearance in bold black print. It had been five years since their defeat over Voldemort, but nobody forgot. They were legends. 

                '**_Perfect by nature'_**

So much so thatchildren around the world tucked comfortably in bed were told of the thrilling adventures of the magnificent three by their parents. And the next day they would go to school proudly telling their friends 'that they were going to be just like Harry Potter when they grow up', or Hermione Granger or Ron Weasley – everyone had their favourite; even Draco. 

No one would mention the hundreds of wizards and witches who had lost their lives in the depths of the English woodland or the grotty alleyways of London. They were pushed to the back of the mind, joining all the other painful and anguishing memories. Nobody wanted to remember the bad times, instead they indulged themselves in recollections of the victories.   

            _    ' **Icons of self-indulgence'**_****

            If an outsider were to hear the thoughts that passed in his mind they might come to the conclusion that he was jealous, resentful. Seething at the fame that his former 'enemies' basked in. A glory that his own father had hoped for his son;  something that never happened. A long finger emerged from the sleeves, stroking the brown hair of the girl that was at the centre of most of the photographs. The arms of her best friend and her fiancée protectively resting on her shoulder and waist respectively. But as he gazed into her large eyes there wasn't any bitterness being passed from silver eyes to brown. Instead there was understanding, mixed in with pity and regret. He wasn't sure if the emotions running through him were for her or the people that worshipped her. 

Probably both he finally reflected. For they were both living on a lie.      

  _ '**Just what we all need **_

**_   More lies about a world_**__

**_   Never was an never will be'_**

One photo exhibited in the compilation grabbed his attention. The models were unchanged but the setting was the school grounds, or more particularly the lake. The three had their lower legs submerged in the cool water as the rays of the summer sun beat down on them. They were laughing, making the most of their last day at Hogwarts. But every now and then the eighteen year old Hermione would tilt her head in the direction of the whomping willow, a sad expression passing briefly on her face before it once again resumed to a picture of happy smiles and giggles. Draco peered closer at the age-old photograph and there in the background he could see the blurry figure of a tall, pale boy stood by the ancient tree, his features marred by an ugly, angry scowl. One blink and he was gone, walking back to the school, out of the picture.   

**_ ' Have you no shame don't you see me_**

**_ You know you've got everybody fooled'_**__

The man was brought out of his thoughts as the hall of people suddenly descended into silence before bursting into rapturous applause. So they had arrived. Turning away from the photographs he followed the line of sight that those around him had taken.   

**_'Look here she comes now'_**

Beautiful was the first word that came to mind. Her wild hair cascaded down her back. It was still as frizzy as the day that she had first stepped into Hogwarts but that only seemed to underline the fact that her beauty was natural, not from layers of glamour charms or from hundreds of galleons splashed on expensive clothing. In addition her face was free of make-up; for her large brown eyes, perfect skin and full lips had no need for such trivialities. He wasn't the only one transfixed. He could hear the whispers that were uttered from mouths to ears within the crowd that had gathered. 

 "I think I have fallen in love."

"I wish I looked like that."

"That's what an angel would look like."

**_'Bow down and stare in wonder_**

**_Oh how we love you'_**

And of course she wore maroon. A true Gryffindor. She symbolised everything that was brave, loyal ……good. Nobody would have cause to criticise her. Why? Because there was nothing to say. She was faultless.

.    

'No flaws when you're pretending' 

            But then Draco Malfoy was not like most people. He had had a glimpse at the girl underneath the cloud of perfection, and he had seen a mass of murky swirls, darkened by the lies and pretence that lay within her. 

Firstly he knew she hated red. How did he know this? She had told him in their 7th year. 

They were in her head girl quarters, his fingers passing through her hair as she rested the heavy potions book on her stomach, her brow furrowed in concentration. It was the start of their mock NEWTS the next day. Draco had finished revising and was confident in his ability to pass with flying colours. Hermione on the other hand had been in a state of panic, although she could recite pages at a time from the textbook in a blink of an eye. At first he had been refused entrance, strands of hair had escaped her bun as she had shaken her head furiously saying that all he would do was distract her. In response Draco had swooped down on her lips silencing her protests with a sweet kiss. How could she refuse him when he had retaliated with such a convincing argument? So he was allowed into her sanctuary of books and learning, but not before taking a vow of silence. He had been in her room several times before of course, when books had been far from their thoughts, when the taste of their flesh and lips had proven to be far more appealing. But sitting here Draco was finally able to have a good look at her room. The traditional maroon and gold decorations had given way to light blue and purple. He could remember how strange he thought her desertion of all things Gryffindor was, she had been so proud of her house and all it stood for. Curiosity had welled up inside him and he could not resist the urge to ask her, prepared to face her wrath.

*******

"What happened to all things Gryffindor?"

She lifted her head of his lap, twisting her curvy body so she was facing him. "What?" Her eyes were narrowed with confusion.

"No vulgar red and gold." To emphasise his point he waved his arm in the air. " I thought you loved those horrendous colours."

"It's not red. It's maroon."

He rolled his eyes. She chose to ignore it.

"I don't know I was just getting sick of seeing just those colours. Seven years of them and you start hating them. What about you, aren't you tired of green and silver?"

"No." His answer was short, he never did like talking about himself.

"Ah a true Slytherin." She was teasing him. He just looked smug, of course he was. 

"But you're not quite the Gryffindor everybody things you are," he stated.

 A chuckle slipped through her delicious red lips. "Well unless a Gryffindor means: sneaking around with the enemy – a Slytherin and lying to your friends." It was during the latter part of the sentence that he saw the glimmer of sadness flitting in her eyes before she playfully hit him on the shoulder, "Now shut up!"  

*********

****

**_'But now I know she_******

**_          Never was and never will be'_**__

            From that day he realised that Hermione Granger was not all she was perceived to be. Needless to say she was loyal, until one of her friends begged to see one of her essays and she would slap their eager fingers away from her prized pieces  and brave, until faced with a broom and a starless night. Good? Not when she was trapped in a dark corner, sandwiched between the wall and her hated-by-all boyfriend; moaning from the waves of pleasure that were crashing throughout her body. Draco had found it amusing, and he sometimes would boastfully blame himself for her transformation; putting it down to his influence over her. 

            But that changed when he entered her study that morning, all remnants of amusement vanished into thin air. The portrait guarding her chambers had been carelessly left unhinged and so he had entered meaning to catch her unaware. Putting to use the Malfoy stealth that had been ingrained into him from birth. He had crept to the bedroom door, his hand had pushed it slowly open. And it was then that he saw her. Stuck to her mouth was the gangly Weasley; his hands roving parts of Hermione that were his and only his. He had left as quietly as he came for the pain tearing his heart to shreds had become too much to bear.     

**_'You don't know how you've betrayed me'_**

****

The next day she had approached him saying she didn't think things were working out between them. That she couldn't take the lies and secrets anymore. He had scoffed at that remark. He had then proceeded to describe the kiss he had happened upon, hatred and bitterness lacing each word. Her eyes had widened, her breathes had come out laboured as her treachery had been revealed. She had stayed silent for several minutes. He could practically see the cogs in her brain turning frantically, desperate to form a reason for her behaviour. 

********

"I don't know why I did it." 

That's the best she could do, after everything. Draco could feel his blood boiling under his skin 

"Do you love him?" Draco asked. He couldn't bear to look at her. To see her lips form the answer would destroy him. But no words came. His question had remained unanswered.

He turned back round to face her. Her head was downcast, her mass of hair covering her features from his eyes. He slowly reached out to put his hand on her chin, lifting her face up so he could see what she was thinking, what her eyes told him. 

The brown orbs glistened with tears, which ran freely down her face, but they could not hide the guilt and regret that shone brightly from their foggy depths. 

"Do you love me?" he asked. Again she did not answer but she didn't need to. Her eyes had given her away again. They screamed with a truthful 'Yes.'

"Why are you doing this?" Silence. 

"Why are you doing this?" He yelled the words the second time round, hoping that volume would make her respond. 

It did, but not in the way he had hoped. She ripped his hand from her chin, her eyes blazing with a fire lit by anger. 

"Leave me alone. I don't love you. I never did."

*************

            And that was it. He had watched her small figure run haphazardly down the corridor. The sound of her sobs echoing off the stonewalls as he just stood there completely and utterly lost for words. 

Six years later and Draco stood watching her. She leaned over, kissing Weasley on the cheek. The action received a chorus of 'Ahhhhs' around the room, for what could be better than two 'good' people in love – a fairytale played out in real life. Except for the fact that it wasn't true, the heroine had more then her fair share of flaws and the love story wasn't quite real.  

            '**_And somehow you've got everybody fooled'_**

****

****In his time away from her he had hoped that the part of his heart that remembered her taste, her kisses and the mind numbing feelings she produced in him would fade away, leaving him free of the memory of her. But it was no use, she remained ever present, haunting him during the lonely nights in the manor; even when the arms of another random woman were wound tightly round him, he still felt empty without her. 

There was no other conclusion to be reached other than the fact that he loved her with all of his soul, and that he wouldn't be complete without her in his arms.  

He had not planned what he was going to say to her. Two hours ago he didn't know he was going to be here. It had been a sudden decision, a lover's desperate plan – a madman's idea. Nothing was premeditated or definite, except for one detail she loved him as much as he did her. Was he being presumptuous? Could she have actually had fallen in love with the red-haired freak in the time that has passed? Not if what he had seen in her eyes that day had been a figment of his imagination. 

*********

The subject of love was never a matter that was discussed much in the Malfoy household, except on one occasion. He had been ten, his mother had entered the room, a bruised cheek glowing bright in the dark room. Draco had sat by her, watching tears roll silently down her face.

"Why do you love papa?" 

She had smiled at him, her hand passed into his hair affectionately pushing away the wayward strands from his eyes.

"You can't choose who you fall in love with, Draco. And I love your father with all my heart." Her blue eyes had radiated with unadulterated feelings of love, even when the door had slammed open; an angry Lucius filling the doorway, his hand resting by his side, itching to fly again. 

And Hermione's eyes had been replicas of his mother's own that day. Love had been leaking out of every spot of colour that tinted the large orbs. Nothing could have erased something as pure as that.

***********

And the time had come, no more lies. In the corner of his eye he could see her breaking way from her friends, weaving through the crowd, making her way to the toilets at the far end of the hall. He followed the brown head, pushing his way through the throng of people. In a matter of seconds they were both free of the constraints the mass of bodies had presented. He was so close to her. He reached out for her wrist, snatching it from her side. She whipped round to face him, surprise expressed clearly in her perfect features. She peered up at him, trying to look beneath his hood. 

"Do I know you?" she asked, a polite smile gracing her lips.

"Well I can never forget you," he stated. Draco lifted the hood, allowing his hair to fall about his face, his fringe collapsing just above his eyes. 

"Draco," she gasped. "It's really you." Hesitant fingers were raised upwards, and tentatively placed on his face. They followed the contours of his cheeks, his lips; familiarising them with something that had been touched so often in the distant past. Unconsciously Draco felt himself relaxing into her gentle caresses, leaning into them, wanting more of what he had missed so much that it had hurt. 

"What are doing here?" She seemed to suddenly become aware of where she was and whom she was touching as her comforting hand left his face, making it once again feel cold. 

"Don't." He grabbed her hand, and placed it back on his cheek. Her eyes furtively glanced from one part of the hall to the other, scared that they would be caught. 

"Please don't do this," she whispered to him. Her eyes pleading with his own. 

"I love you." It was the first time that he had ever said those words and never had Draco said something and meant it more than now. 

Her face transformed before his, her eyes sparkled with joy and her lips curled up in a genuine smile of pleasure. His Hermione was back, and it had taken no more than three words to break the wall of lies that she had constructed around herself. He placed one of his own hands on her cheek. The softness beneath his finger tips, a feeling he would never forget. Around them everything blurred into swirls of colour and distorted shapes; as they became lost in each other, looking beneath the masks that they had become accustomed to wearing.               

****

_            **'Without the mask where will you hide'**_

****

****Together they read the same lines told in each others souls, lines telling of the mutual desire and love that blazed within them. 

Thus shrouded in shadows the two lovers were finally reunited, as their lips came upon one another's and their arms wrapped around each other – never wanting to let go. So sweet. Draco could feel himself pushing onto her harder, craving for something she could only give him- ecstasy. She retaliated likewise, throaty moans bubbling up from her throat, spurring Draco on, for he wanted to hear that noise again and again. It was only until their lungs began to burn with lack of air did they finally part. But they remained mere inches apart.  Hot breathe passing through parted, bruised lips. 

"Leave him," he whispered. 

She purposely ignored the call of his eyes to look up at him. Instead her gaze stayed stubbornly locked on his lips.

"Leave him." A trace of urgency and desperation lingered in his words this time. But he was not ashamed of his show of weakness, love does crazy things to even the strongest of people. He pulled her closer to him, their bodies melding to produce one perfect form. Did she need any more evidence that they were made for each other? 

Her fine eyelashes stroked his jaw as her eyes closed. " I can't. I can't leave Ron."      __

****

_            '**Can't find yourself lost in your lie'**_

            Her warm skin seemed to turn to ice, freezing his insides. He pushed her away from him for fear of cracking to pieces. 

Why was she doing this? 

To him? 

To them?

Waves of anger began to surge through him melting the coldness her words had generated within. Every cell cried with the indignation her refusal had provoked.  

"Fine be a coward, live a lie. But tell me one thing why did you kiss him? Why did you fucking get engaged to him when you were in love with someone else?" He spat the words out in one ugly, rapid spurt   

"Because I was pregnant and you were the 'someone else'," she screamed back at him. The sentence struck down Draco's ability to form coherent words whether it be in his head or with his mouth. He just stood there, doing nothing, saying nothing.  

"There I've said it. Now please leave I can't go through this again," she urged. Her voice breaking under the emotions that weighed her down. She placed her hands on his chest, trying fruitlessly to push him away. But he refused to give any ground

"Why didn't you tell me? What were you going to do when the baby came. It could never look like a Weasley!"

"What happened to the child?" The questions came left his mouth in a stream flowing with confusion. 

"I was desperate, and that made me do stupid things. Anyway the fact that I miscarried solved that tricky situation," stated Hermione bitterly, as rivulets of clear tears cascaded down her cheeks as thoughts of a baby in her arms raced through her mind in one continuous loop. 

Draco wanted nothing more than to envelop her in his arms and stop the pain. "But why didn't you tell me? You know I would have done anything for you."

"What gone against your family, your beliefs – marry a mudblood!" Her eyes challenged him to say yes. "Don't play the moral high card it doesn't suit you."

"Ok so I would have been shocked." A puff of disbelieving laughter left her lips. "But I would have done anything you asked." 

"Why?" She looked up at him, suspicious of him. 

"Because I loved you." He cupped her face in his hands, making sure she could see his eyes, see into him. So she knew that he was telling her the absolute truth. Her eyes widened as they realised that he was, and the tears were temporarily halted.  

But at the same time Draco had had the opportunity to look into her.

"It wasn't me you were worried about though was it?" His fingers strengthened the grip they had on her chin, he could see her skin below his fingertips whiten with the pressure. She began to struggle under his touch, but he wasn't going to let her go. "You were worried what they, Potter and bloody Weasley would say weren't you?"

She brought tentative fingers up to his. Stroking him, trying to calm the storm that she could see was brewing in his grey eyes. "It wasn't just them it was everybody else. People looked up to us. There were expectations. I couldn't suddenly declare that I was in love with a son of a death eater, a murderer. That's why I kissed Ron, said yes to his proposal. Having a baby with Ron would have been accepted. But with you………….. I didn't think you would have stayed with me, not with Lucius as your father…………….."

Draco cut her off. His eyes hard enough to cut even the purest of diamonds. "I'm not like my father."

Her eyes widened. "I know that……….. But Harry and Ron they would never have forgiven me, not after everything that had happened in the past."

Clarity hit him like a painful, sharp thump to the stomach "They mean more to you than I ever will, don't they." **__**

****

            **'I know the truth now**

**_            I know who you are_**

**_            And I don't love you anymore'_**__

Her silence deafened him, beating against his eardrum, telling him that she could not deny it. To her their relationship was insignificant, a mere speck in the distance to the bond she shared with her two male friends thought Draco angrily. What was flooding their bodies when they touched each other disintegrated to nothingness when compared to the feelings that years of companionship and platonic love that Potter and Weasley transmitted to her in a simple hug. 

He would never be number one to her; third place would be all she could give him. She couldn't love him with the whole of her, like he could. There would always be a part of her that belonged to them. A relationship could never survive or never be on foundations like that.

How could he love her?      

            **'_It never was and never will be'_**

            They remained motionless, staring into each other's eyes. Before Draco could no longer look at her. He turned away and strode out of the hall, leaving his heart and his soul behind. He had no need for them, for all they did were to remind him of the pain and misery that she had bestowed on him. He wandered into the night a broken man.   

**_'You're not real and you can't save me'_**

****

Fresh trails of tears coursed down her cheeks, wetting her robes. But she didn't care. Watching him leave she realised that she had managed to lose the most important thing in life – true love.

**_            'Somehow now you're everybody's fool'_**__

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* Fini*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A/N I apologize if they are slightly out of character and it's a wee bit anti – Hermione but it just seemed to fit the song_. _If uve read till the end I'm going to do the rather sad thing and once more beg for reviews * author pulls puppy dog eyes*. They can be darn right mean and nasty ( tell me why you don't like it) or nice and happy ( obviously preferred but as my mother often says u can't have everything in life * sighs*) 

Anyway ta for reading and looking forwards to seeing some messages in my inbox – see that oh so subtle hint hmmmm.

Ooooo forgot sumthin am on the search for a beta (preferably sumone who doesn't mind looking at R-rated fics as well). The job is not for the fainthearted as my spelling and grammer r both rather crap, but if anyones interested please email me! 

Ok think that's it….

Luv Cedar1


	2. Taking over me

Different Paths By Cedar1 

A/N Hello! Kept this as a PG-13, but wasn't sure if I should upgrade it to an R. If u think it needs to be please email me and I'll bump the rating up. Ta! Like always reviews are always appreciated so go on make a girl v. happy and click on that review button!

Disclaimer: Usual applies unfortunately: JK Rowling for characters, Evanescence for songs and inspiration. Can't a girl like me own anything in this world? Is that too much to ask?

Taking over me "He's over there." His podgy finger pointed to the cell at the furthest end of the floor. Hermione followed the imaginary line that came from the finger, and could see nothing but shadows playing off the steel bars. "Thank you," she said politely. The guard merely grunted at the sign of appreciation, as he pulled out an adult magazine from beneath his stack of unfinished paperwork. Hermione overlooked the degrading titles that covered the glossy cover; she had more important things on her mind than a guard fulfilling his perverted needs. Willing herself on Hermione began to walk down the passageway, her shoes clicking and echoing off the stone. For every click came a whistle of admiration from a different cell, as all the inmates got off their beds to see which of them had a visitor. And what a visitor she was. Curly hair piled meticulously on top of a heart-shaped face, which was placed on top of a small, curvy body. She may not have been beautiful, but to men who had not seen a woman in a while she looked like heaven itself. She could feel their hungry eyes raking over her, stripping her with their lustful gazes. She began to finger her robes, pulling the material away from her body. Hermione never wore tight clothing but now it felt that her favourite robe was suffocating her, sticking to her, meeting to the wants of the despicable men around her. But her actions only seemed to spur them on. "Take it off for me, love," whispered a voice from the left of her. 

Could it be him?

She turned round to see gnarled hands curled round the steel bars. The fingers were aged with liver spots and deeply etched lines; she followed them upwards before they disappeared into the background of darkness. "Come on. One for an old man," he called to her. Noting her stare he spoke again, "Like what you see eh?" But he was no longer only a pair of hands, he had pushed his head forwards into the light; his large nose protruding from the cage in which he was confined to. Hermione could feel waves of repulsion moving over her, churning her stomach as she stared at his yellowed, sunken eyes. So ugly, and hideous and yet she found herself unable to look away.             The voice of the guard suddenly broke her stupor. "Get back in your beds or you won't be able to get up tomorrow morning I would have cursed you so bad," came his booming voice. Hermione felt herself being thankful for his threats, whether they be just that or a fact. The old man slunk back to his hard mattress but not before uttering a promise," Don't worry love I'll get you some day." Hermione's heart was racing, and unconsciously her right hand had disappeared into her robe pocket, her fingers curled tightly around her most prized possession. She knew it would be impossible for them to do magic, they had been demagicfied before entering the prison but she still felt weary of them, scared that they would suddenly jump from their confines in front of her. Her breathing still unsettled she once again continued her walk down to his cell. Despite her determination she could feel herself slowing down, her assured stride reduced to pathetic fairy steps. Why was she so afraid? It wasn't as if he would remember her?            'You don't remember me' 

Why would he? She was probably just another notch in his bedpost; another conquest that lay with all the others in the dark crevices of his memory.

**_'But I remember you'_**

But to Hermione he was everything. The way he touched her, the way he kissed her. The way he brought her tumbling out of reality to a world that was filled with pure bliss and ecstasy. She could never forget the sight of his face above hers, a smile cracking the beautifully harsh features and the sparkle lighting up the traditional cold grey eyes till they were blazing with passion, burning her with the heat they radiated. And then she would hear the whispers of his voice; his breath tickling the hairs of her neck as the words he spoke echoed in her head, "Do you know how beautiful you are?" 

Hermione had blushed to that remark; a rush of redness flooded her cheeks and travelled down to her shoulders, to her naked torso. 

He had chuckled at her reaction, "Has no one told you how beautiful you are?" His words had caressed her skin, as he continued to kiss his way across her body. Words having been lost to moans of pleasure a while ago Hermione could only shake her head. It had been a lie; people had told her she was pretty. But they didn't count; their remarks were out of polite courtesy, a way to break the ice. Never had it been said to her as a pure complement, a statement of fact. That was before that night.

He had noted the shake of her head and brought his face back to hers. "Well you are and don't ever think otherwise." He had sealed his command with a hard kiss. His lips moved across hers like silk, as his tongue tasted all she had to offer him. 

And so their first and last night together had past in a blur of burning kisses and long, gentle moans. 

            When she woke up, the early morning sun heating her skin, she was alone, and she had never been so cold in her life before. She had cried in the shower that morning, trying to rub the remnants of the night off her. But her wet skin still tingled with the touches of his lips and fingers. Her knees had buckled under her as she fell on the tiled floor, the water swirling around her before it was sucked down into the plughole. If only she could do that she had thought regretfully. If only she could get away from here and not have to see him again. She knew what would happen. He would move on to another girl. Charming her and teasing her in the same ways he had done to her. Surprising shows of kindness behind the backs of others, single flowers sent through owls in the morning and gentle touches to naked fingers that sent rockets of shivers up and down your spine. In the past she had been observant enough to see his actions from afar and inwardly always thought the girls who fell for his tricks as pathetic and mindless. But that was before her first tulip, before her first lingering peck on the cheek in the shadows of an alcove. Granted she took longer to seduce than the others a fact that made him smile, for he told her  'he liked a challenge.'         

            And true to form Draco had indeed dedicated his attentions to another, a blonde-leggy Ravenclaw if Hermione remembered correctly. She had spent the next few days, weeks ignoring him, wanting desperately for the rest of the year to pass. Walking away from his insults that he continued to shower on her and her friends. Trying to disguise the shameful blush that would arise as he purposely flicked his eyes over her body, to that of an expression of anger. It was easy enough for her to forget about him during the day or even in the evening for she would just immerse herself in the mountains of work that were piled on her table. But in the night, when her eyes were too tired to look at endless pages of text, and her fingers too sore to scratch words onto parchment she would lie in bed. Her gaze fixed on the ceiling over her, trying to pay no attention to the shadows that seemed to play above her head forming Draco like figures. They would float towards her, brushing against her. She would close her eyes tightly, screwing them so hard that the muscles of her eyelids hurt with the tension. Frantic in her need to let the darkness envelope her and shroud her world in dreamless sleep.  

**_'I lie awake and try so hard_**

**_Not to think of you'_**

****

But as soon as her eyes were closed he would creep into her mind, invade her dreams. Loving her in her sleep**__**

**_'But who can decide what they dream?'_**

****

Graduation came soon enough, keeping the final shreds of Hermione's sanity in tact. She couldn't be within the same four walls as him for any longer. Her heart was burning with longing and desire, so much so that she felt it would explode with the pressure of the feelings restrained within it. She had given her speech as Head Girl, thanking the teachers, wishing her classmates all the best. All the while she could feel his eyes upon her, worshipping every inch of her, trying to put her off. Thankfully she had completed the address without any major mistakes but by the end of it she was desperate for fresh air, and she had run out of the hall, through the doors and onto the lush grounds of Hogwarts. 

***o*o*o*o*o*o*o Start Flashback**

            She hastily removed her robe, tossing it carelessly on the ground. The cool breeze swept over her skin, cooling the heat that two grey orbs had managed to generate in her cells. 

"Take it off for my benefit Granger?" came a smug voice from behind her. She could smell his aftershave in the air surrounding them. She closed her eyes, allowing it to fill her senses making her ever so slightly light-headed. 

"Why are you doing this?" 

He moved closer towards her. His chest inches away from her back. It took all of Hermione's will power to not lean into him, seeking his strength to support the weakness that was overcoming her. Her knees nearly bowed under her as he placed a cool hand on her neck, teasing the goose bumps that had risen on her flesh. 

"Because I want to." Soft lips replaced soft fingers.

All rational thoughts vanished from her head as Hermione could resist no longer and she fell back on him, resting her weight fully on him. The fingers on her right hand entwined themselves in the fine strands of platinum, keeping his head in the deeply satisfying position. He alternated between biting and licking, hurting then soothing. Two opposites culminating to produce soul-shattering results, as she moaned his name again and again. Her whimpers carried through the open air, rippling the water on the lake. 

But too soon it was over and his lips departed from the connection to her wet, sore skin. She was about to beg him not to stop when he cut her off.

"Good-bye Hermione."

Her eyes widened. Had he just said her name? It had rolled of his tongue so naturally, so wonderfully. She didn't know someone could make her name so beautiful.

"Draco" she whispered. 

But he had already walked away from her. His tall figure striding back to the impressive building of Hogwarts. She could feel the beginning of tears forming at the corners of her eyes threatening to fall at any moment.

"I love you." The words had floated with the wind up to her ears, caressing her, blanketing her in a sheet of joy. She collapsed onto the ground, tears wetting the blades of grass. Seconds after, the screams of graduating students burst forth from the open doors, as they spilt out of the great hall. She turned towards them, desperate to find him in the crowd. However she could not. He was gone.     

***o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o* End Flashback**

Till this day Hermione wasn't sure whether it was him who had spoken such blessed words or the spiteful wind and her own imagination playing tricks on her. But she believed in the former.

**'_And dream I do……'_**

****

      The years had been and gone for Hermione. They had trundled along in hours filled with mundane work and the usual humdrum of life. Get up, get changed, head to the ministry, work, go back home, have dinner and sleep. On the odd occasion she would meet up with Harry and Ron but they had grown up since their days at Hogwarts, and had other friendships to up keep, lovers to satisfy. They both had someone to go home to, someone to help them forget their problems. Hermione had no such person, only a dream, a ghost made up of past memories and hidden desires. A ghost that couldn't hold her, couldn't kiss her in a world that wasn't the one that came upon her in the night as she slept. In the world that mattered.

      And so she had kept sneaking glances at the various reports that came in, anything that gave any clue, any hint to his whereabouts. He had gone missing years ago, when the dark side had buckled under the efforts of the light. To his name were the murders of several muggles, witches, wizards, and bodies of children lying in small graves. But she never believed it. She could never love a murderer?

It were the relatives, they cried for blood, to make up for that spilt by their loved ones and Draco was simply a name pulled out a hat. A scapegoat for people's want for revenge. 

For how could the boy, the man who had once told her she was beautiful so affectionately, putting to rest all her insecurities, be a killer?  

**_'I believe in you'_**

****

****Maybe she was misguided. A fool blinded by love. 

In the past Hermione had always had a clear-cut picture when concerned with right and wrong, good and evil; it was either black or white. That was until Draco Malfoy; who singly brought her boundaries crashing to the ground so everything became an uncertain, undistinguishable mix of greyish hues. Her mind heavy with the onslaught that her beliefs had untaken Hermione had gone through a period of serious contemplation – still the logical girl she was when she was eleven. And on reflection she concluded that those grey patches were what you wanted it to be and she believed in him. To her he was still good, still pure, and still able to love.  __

**_'I'd give up everything just to find you'_**

****

****That's probably why she was here, walking towards him, be it very slowly, in the middle of the night. Her wand tucked in her pocket, the dark incantation whirling round in her head, imprinting its words of her mind. As soon as she had found out about his capture she had rushed home, excuses of illness to her bemused colleagues trailing behind her. She had taken her stairs two at a time, she didn't realise that her breathing had become so heavy, her heart pounding to an extreme or her muscles tight with over use, for at that moment she had felt that she could fly. On reaching her room she had proceeded to tip her beloved books off her bookshelf. 

Thump. Thump. 

Each fell. 

In a state of excitement she had flicked so fast through the hundreds of pages that her fingers were shredded with paper cuts, desperately searching for a spell, any spell that would bring him back to her. And as the room descended into darkness she had finally found it, a tiny spell that could mean the start of a new beginning.

But at the same time, the ending of one lifetime. She knew this would mean giving up everything , her friends, her job, and her family. She would be outcaste, a criminal. She would become someone that she had always despised, but then maybe she was just part of that grey patch.

Love was a viable reason for her actions wasn't it, she was still good wasn't she?

**_'I have to be with you to live to breathe_**

**_You're taking over me'_**

****

****At long last she finally reached his cell. She could hardly see the light was so bad, however every now and then she would see a flash of silver before it once again hid in the shadows. 

"Draco," she called quietly to him. Another glimpse of hair.

"Draco." 

Furtively looking round she withdrew the wand from its place. She was shaking as she positioned it opposite the lock, her voice trembled as she spoke the dark incantation that opened the cell door. 

Click

The door swung open silently. She padded in, still looking cautiously around her. As soon as she had passed into the cell the door closed shut. She headed to the corner where she knew he would be crouched, she could sense his presence, even in the dark, even after all these years.

"Draco." A shuffle of limbs. Her skin began prickling with the energy he radiated. He was just in front of her. Her breathe caught in her throat and she sank to her knees, bringing her to his level.

            She was met with bright silver eyes, that could be best described as 'blank', not even glimmer of emotion rippling thought them. She could hear heart pulsating for all it was worth in her chest, pounding against her ribs as she found herself falling in the pools of steel. His breath hit against her skin, kissing her cheek in hot touches. The palms of her hands became sticky with sweat. He was so close. Close enough to kiss him. Hesitantly she brought her hand up to his face, brushing her fingers against his lips. He didn't recoil but then neither did he lean into her caresses. 

"Do you not remember me?" she whispered. His expression remained neutral.

"Do you not remember how you told me you loved me?" her voiced cracked, together with all her hope and dreams as once again he failed to respond.

**_'Have you forgotten all I know_**

**_And all we had?'_**

****

****She had heard that when they had captured him, he had come with them silently. That he had had a face of a man who was defeated, a man who could no longer fight; in either words or actions. That he had not spoken a word since. That all he did was stare into space. The rumours that filtered through the ministry suggested that he had been tortured and broken, but the name of the torturer was still only a question mark. In truth they didn't care, they had their man and the fact that he was refusing to speak meant that his incarceration would be easier. 

Hermione picked up on all of these at work, but she hadn't believed them. Her Draco was not one to go down silently, he would be kicking and screaming like the sly, cunning creature he was.  She had been expecting him to say something whether it be to proclaim his undying love for her or laugh at her for ever thinking he could love her.

However sitting here his eyes still a blanket of unflickering grey she felt herself suddenly crashing back to reality, realising that all her plans had been to seek a future that could probably never exist. The man that she loved with all her soul was not there anymore, the man in front of her was just an empty shell.

And she began to cry for him, for her. They were both beyond saving.

 **__**

**_'You saw me mourning my love for you_**

**_And touched my hand_**

**_I knew you loved me then'_**

****

The clear tears were flowing down her cheeks falling freely on her robes as well as his. She brought her hand up to her face and harshly wiped the stream away. It was then that she could feel something cool and rough slide slowly across her fingers. Shocked she stopped her vigorous rubbing, her eyes peeked over her hand, to see another set of fingers gently caressing it. She looked up and could see him looking back at her, recognition and love shimmering through the murky depths of his eyes. Gradually he lifted her hand of her face, his gaze never leaving hers as gently he laid it on her lap. 

"Hermione." He whispered. 

She did not have time to revel in the feelings that lifted her deflated heart as he softly put his lips to hers.  

****

**_'I believe in you_**

**_I'd give up everything just to find you'_**

****

            And as they apparated hand in hand, a cloud of dark magic left behind in the cell; her lips were still tingling with his touch. And as they slinked into the night, the sound of the escape alarms ringing in their ears; jolts of electricity were still firing from all the nerve endings that were excited by his kiss. And as she entered the empty house of her parents', and helped him get into bed, watching as his eyes closed she still remembered the way he murmured "I love you" as their lips had parted.

**_'to be with you to live to breathe_**

**_You're taking over me'_**

****

Hermione switched on her bathroom light and shivered as she entered the cold room. Her toes curled up as they made contact with the cool tiles. She walked towards the bathroom mirror. Her hair had come apart, and misbehaving strands littered her shoulders. Her eyes had not done well with the hours of lost sleep. Heavy black bags underlined her large eyes, which were now tainted with an ugly shade of red. The skin of her face was cracked and lined by the chill that had descended upon them that night. She smiled to herself; she had never looked so bad before but then she had never felt so contented inside. To think that one person could bring out the best and worst of her at the same time. Glancing to the top right corner she could see him collapsed on her bed, his beautiful face nestled in her pillows, his eyes closed by the effects of deep sleep. 

****

**_'I look in the mirror and see your face'_**

****

            . Opening the tap she allowed the hot water to gush into the sparkling sink below. The steam rose up misting her reflection. Passing her hand under the water she splashed some on her face, recoiling as the scalding heat touched her cold face. Gasping slightly she reached blindly for her hand towel.

With her right hand she rubbed the steam of the coated cabinet. One smear and she could see her eyes staring back at her. She moved in closer curious to see what they revealed. He always said he could see everything in her eyes, but she had never noticed before. Looking deep she was startled to see how right he was. She seemed to display everything, hiding nothing.

Guilt – for deceiving her friends

Regret- for the knowledge that she would never see them again

Anger- for their inability to understand her feelings to the one man she cared for so deeply she would risk everything

Hope- for the future  

Fear- for what could happen to them both if they were caught

**_'If I look deep enough_**

**_So many things inside that are'_**

****

            Yet putting all these to shame with their insignificance was the emotion of love that seemed to knock them all to the periphery of her brown eyes while it itself took centre stage. Shining brightly. Making her normally dull eyes shimmer with colour.

The love for him transcended above every other emotion, thought in her body. It was all that mattered to her.

**_'Just like you are taking over me'_**

****

****Reaching out she switched out the light, putting to dark her reflection. Removing her robe as she walked she placed it on the dressing table stool. No daily ritual of combing hair and applying cream was carried out; she had better things to do. She sat on the bed, her heart racing at the prospect of once again sharing a bed with him. Lifting her legs gently as not to wake him she turned to rest next to him. Her hand flitted to his hair, brushing away strands from his face. His features twitched with the unexpected contact before settling down to their peaceful expression. She moved in closer, close enough for his warm breath to caress her cheek, making it glow with happiness. She wasn't sure what would happen tomorrow. A group of aurors would either burst through their doors or they would have time to run away from everything and everyone they knew and were familiar with. An arm was suddenly placed around her waist as she was dragged towards him, so that his head was placed comfortably in the crook of her shoulder. 

And as her heart crescendoed down to its normal rhythm and her eyes drooped with sleep, tomorrow was forgotten. 

For she was with him. 

He was with her.

They were together.

**                        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*Fini*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**  

****__

A/N wasn't expecting to update so soon just sorta happened- prob a case of me doin anything to avoid the crappiness that is revising for exams.This was rather fluffy when compared to the one that just past, and again the characters don't seem quite right but as usual wud love reviews (only got 2 last time = rather sad author)  so if u've read this please do and let me know what u think! It will only take a minute – so go on! You know u want to…………….

Thanx to: me19 –  *blushes * thanks! Hope u like this one!

Harshipper- the last one was rather miserable wasn't it? But hope this one made up it! (I thought the ending was rather sweet this time)  

For reviewing big sparkly gold stars are being transported throu computer land to u, u brill people!!

Luv Cedar1 

Oooo and still looking for a beta! Any takers? Please email me!


	3. Hello

****

Different Paths

By Cedar1

A/N Am sorry for the lack of updating over these past few mths, but have had sum really horrible exams and my computer broke down and i lost all my coursework as well as a few chapters I had typed for my stories. So am not a happy bunny!

But managed to "borrow" i.e. nick my sis's computer and type this. Its not a covential romance story, but the two characters do feature heavily in it and it's ultimately about Draco coming to terms with the life he has chosen. Again I just jump into a situation, so there will be some holes in the plot. But I hope it all makes sense and you enjoy it!

Warning: Bit of swearing, hopefully nothing that will exceed the PG13 rating.

Disclaimer: JK Rowling owns the beautiful universe of Harry Potter and Evanescence for inspiration and lyrics. As 4 me, I think the plots mine? 

****

Hello

**_'Playground school bell rings again'_**

The bells rang out from the various battle stations, signalling the end of yet another bloody day of intense fighting. Wizards across the muddy land sheathed their wands and wandered as if in a daze back to their respective camps. Their hands, although invisible to the naked eye, were tainted red by the blood from their victims, their enemies. It was curious this daily ritual; suddenly stopping mid -spell, mid-kill, respecting the rules that official war would take place at only certain times of the day. So civilised, and yet at complete odds with the actions that brought about the litter of bodies that lay strewn motionless on the ground. The players would respectfully bypass their dead colleagues, their eyes looking any where but down, hoping it was not a friend or an aquantaince that lay at their feet. But it was coming to the stage when everybody was a friend, the war had gone on for so long that names eventually went with faces, and recognition of those dead inevitable. 

**_'Rain clouds come to play again'_**

The tears that streaked down their faces were made insignificant as the heavy rain came upon them once more, the wet, fat droplets putting their own tears to shame. It had been raining every night for the last two months without fail. Streams stained with crimson red criss crossed the ground, effectively washing away the lives of the dead. And as they walked back, some outstretched their arms in front of them, praying that the rain would wash away their sins of the day. 

The field was nearly empty. Gone were the battle cries and the shrieking curses, silence blanketed the land, except for a patch just to the side of the forbidden forest where two figures could be found. One on the floor, the other kneeling by the side.

*****************************************************

Draco wound his fingers round the tangles of her knotted hair, the course strands cutting into his fine flesh. He was straddling her now, practically sitting on her flat stomach. His hands that cradled her head, brought it closer to his own.

"Granger."

"Granger."

"Granger."

Each time the word slipped from his chapped lips, the more the emotion of desperation leaked into his voice. 

**_'Has no one told you she's not breathing?'_**

"For fucks sake Granger, speak to me!" he pleaded once more. But to no avail, her eyes remained expressionless and glassy, their gaze unchanging. Her skin was beginning to take on an unnatural shade of blue, the previous redness of her cheeks succumbing to the death that crept over them. He dragged one hand down to her neck, trembling fingers anxious to feel a flutter of a pulse. He pressed harder against the skin of her neck, the flesh turning white with the pressure, desperate to feel something, anything.

How could she be dead?

How could he have killed her?

***********************************************

They had found him lying next to her body, his face buried in the crook of her neck, his hands wrapped possessively around her stiff torso. At first they had failed to recognise him as one of their own, the mud coating his hair hiding the most obvious sign of a Malfoy descendent. But on further inspection they had realised who it was, and after the initial shock of finding such a man, in such a position, reported the situation to their superiors.

It had taken three grown men and a lot of effort to pry his fingers from their hold. He had shouted at them, swearing that he would kill them if they did not leave him alone. But they had their orders and as so were deaf to his threats.

***********************************************

Draco wasn't sure when he had been moved from the wet earth to the cosy bedding of his tent. Nor did he care. 

She occupied all the chambers of his brain, every nook and cranny, there was no room for anything else. Her appearance changed regularly, memories flashing through his brain, disregarding any chronological order as she grew from a girl to an adult, spiralled from a young woman to a teenager. Sometimes she was pictured in front of the backdrop of the great hall and others with her back pressed up against the tree, her eyes screaming with fear. It was this last image that he wanted to get rid off, wanted to ignore. He hadn't wanted that to be the last time they would ever meet. However his subconciousness refused to give into his demands, as that was the picture that stuck in his head, replicating itself on every one of his brain cells. 

Never letting him forget. 

And so she was there, ever present, staring at him throughout the night. Not letting him sleep, her features frozen in that expression of terror. Rushes of guilt and sickness would travel with the blood of his veins, reaching his heart, poisoning it with the intense emotion they carried. He would squeeze his eyes shut, begging that he would be forgiven and she would leave him alone. But she was as stubborn in death as she was in life, and persisted in his torture.. 

It was in the middle of one of these sleepless nights that she spoke to him. It was almost as if she was there next to him, curled up by his side, whispering in his ear. He could feel her breath stroke the shell of his outer ear, her hair tickling his cheek as she bent her head to speak.

"Draco." 

She called him by his first name, that was the first and only indication he needed to know that she wasn't real; that it was purely his mind conjuring up her image and her words, either to torment him further, or to cure him. 

**_'Hello I'm your mind giving you_**

Someone to talk to'

Even with this knowledge he answered her call.

"Hermione," he whispered in the confines of his tent, the wind that blew outside lengthening her name in the atmosphere.

He could imagine the smile that tilted her lips as he called her by her first name. A blush rising from the centre of her cheeks as his voice added a touch of longing and desire to her name.

"Draco." 

**_'Hello'_**

They talked throughout the night, touching on old memories, past arguments. He confessed that she intrigued him that he found himself thinking of her when he shouldn't have been. She asked him whether he loved her and he replied with a definite 'no.' The traditions and lessons that marked his childhood and background could not be that easily overthrown and loving a mudblood was beyond his capability. But she was always in the back of his mind, occupying several forbidden thoughts. She couldn't help the smug look that graced her features from surfacing when he had said the word 'forbidden,' her eyebrows raised questioningly. It was his turn to look bashful as he began to tell her of his desire to touch her, to feel her skin beneath his fingers, to taste her lips and the mouth that lay hidden behind them. 

"Why? If you didn't love me." 

It had taken him a few seconds to think of an adequate reply, as he tried to filter and process the jumble of feelings that she sparked within him. 

"I don't know why exactly. But you could always light emotions in me so easily. Emotions that I hardly felt. Those that found my heart pumping so hard that I thought it would burst, those that would cause the blood beneath my skin to boil. My life had always been filled with such coldness, it was governed by etiquette and custom, driven by ambition and the need for power. There was no room for passion and lust, there was no warmth. That was until you would come along and fill my world with heat. I suppose thats what it was, I wanted to feel that kind of heat next to me, filling me up, melting the ice that had formed within me."

The words that spilled from his mouth surprised her, as well as himself. It was the first time he had actually made sense of his attitude towards her and in truth it scared him.

"Do you want to know what it feels like?"

His mind elsewhere, he was slightly confused by her question. He was about to ask her what she meant when he felt a gentle pressure being applied to his lips. The roughness of her wet tongue stroked them, asking for permission to delve further into his soul. And he granted it, opening his mouth allowing her tongue to caress his own. Her hands wandered down to his chest, fingers playing with the buttons of his top, popping them off one by one, revealing bare flesh which was the next territory explored by her nimble hands. She broke from their kiss, but was not parted from him for long as she made her way instead to his neck, licking and biting the tender skin. He was finally able to know what it was like to be consumed by heat, and a smile of contentment rested on his face.

**_'If I smile and don't believe'_**

He didn't want to believe that she was dead and that he would never have the chance to feel what he was feeling right now again.

However he knew deep down inside that this was not happening, that in reality she was just a corpse, and was stone cold.

**_'Soon I know I'll wake from this dream'_**

His hands grasped her shoulders and he pushed her away from him. Her lips were throbbing with a vibrant red that had been the result of their actions. Her eyes widened in confusion, the brown orbs puzzled by his sudden outburst.

"What's wrong?" Two slim fingers moved to brush strands of blonde hair that had strayed over his eye. Annoyed by her tenderness and want to help him, he slapped her hand away from his face. 

Anger flashed across her delicate features, "What are you doing?" Her voice had lost its gentle quality, and instead the tone was harsh and demanding.

"Why are you doing this? You hate me! Stop trying to be nice to me! What the fuck am I talking about you're not even real, you're just a figment of my imagination."

**_'Don't try to fix me I'm not broken'_**

Draco stared up at woman crouched above him, and as if highlighting his point he began to see subtle indespcrepancies in the Hermione his mind had created and the one that had actually existed. The face in front of him was slimmer, the nose sharper, and the hair silkier. He had created an illusion. But the slightly unnerving thing were the eyes. They were identical to the real ones, not a shade of brown was missing or altered in their depths. 

"You're right I'm not really alive." She smiled sweetly at him. A sweetness that would surely be followed by a sour hitting taste. A hand placed on either side of his head, she brought herself closer to him. 

"Do you remember why?" She dared him to answer.

"It was you. You who pointed your wand at my beating heart." One small hand encased one of his larger ones and held it against her chest.

"You that spoke 'Avada Kedavra'." She guided his hand up to his lips.

"You that watched me fall to the floor"

Draco's heart was beginning to pound hard once again as surges of that familiar feeling of guilt crashed within him. Like a naughty school boy he came up with any excuses that formed in his mind. Anything to push the blame from himself.

"But I didn't know it was you, you're hood covered you're face. By the time I knew it was you, it was too late."

But she shook her head at his pathetic attempt. "Would it have really mattered?"

Draco said nothing. He didn't know the answer.

"That's why I'm here now, at your will. Giving you something you have never and will never have; happiness, contentment, warmth. You think that conjuring me up, imagining my lips on yours will cure you? Don't be so naive. Don't try and hide from the truth........ 

**_'Hello I'm the lie living for you so you can hide'_**

........You were a cold, heartless boy who has grown up to be a cold, heartless man. There's nothing in there." She placed a finger on the left side of his chest, pointing straight through to his heart. 

"And that guilt you feel for my death is not really about me. It's about you. Its always been about you. You're finally beginning to realise who you are, who you've become, and it scares you. Killing one of the only things that gave you any feelings akin to love, passion; you've sealed your fate. There will only be coldness in your life Malfoy. Harsh, sharp, unfeeling............empty." 

Each of her words pierced through the cool exterior he had created for himself through the years. Her sentiments slashing through the barrier, bringing it down to a useless pool of pride and self-control at his feet. Free from constraint he finally allowed himself to give in, to let everything out. 

She watched as crystal clear tears left their streaky wet trails on his porcelain features. She traced the streams with a finger, the tip soaking up the moisture. He felt her alter her position above him. She was by his side now, no longer covering his body with her own. She planted one final kiss on his cheek...

**_'Don't cry'_**

"Don't cry Draco. You made your choice. There's nothing you can do now." 

And with that she was gone; reduced to a breeze in the wind that slipped out of the tent through a crack in the flaps. 

Draco was once again alone. His tears subsiding, the remnants of those that had past crystallising as his cool nature began to form once more. She was right, he was dreaming if he believed a few fantasies could alter the man that he was. This was reality. This was the life he had elected for himself.

**_'Suddenly I know I'm not sleeping' _**

****************************************************

The clash of the bells vibrated through the still air of the battle ground. The weary wizards emerged from their respective tents, their eyes blurry from the last vestiges of sleep that dulled their minds. But it would not last long. It could not if they were to survive through this day. However there was one who did not share their tiredness. 

Draco Malfoy stared at himself in the mirror. The granite eyes reflected back at him radiated with determination, any warmth which may have lingered in their grey pools long gone. Hermione may have been dead, but he was still here. 

**_'Hello I'm still here'_**

He had chosen his path, and he was going to be great. He raised the hood of his black robe over his head and strode out of his quarters.

The day had marked the defeat of the light side and the fall into the abyss of darkness. And in the midst of the shadows stood a figure, with pale hair and even paler skin. All around him his peers collapsed to their knees, their heads bent in respect. 

**_'All thats left of yesterday'_**

************************Fini**************************

if uve read till the end cud u do me a massive favour and review please! ta ducks!

A/N am seriously not sure on this one, its quite short and i don't know if there is actually any point to it.Just to clarify Hermione is dead and its all just a figment of his imagination. Does it make sense? Please review and let me know what u think. Thanx!

Bear hugs to those who reviewed last time: Spaced Out Space Cadet, Shadowsong11, hello!, Harshipper, 


	4. Haunted

**Different Paths **

**By Cedar1**

A/N Have not updated this in ages – sorry bout that! So i won't babble too much just to say thanx to mesmer and trinity marquise who reviewed last time and a couple of disclaimers...

1) Jk Rowling's characters from the harry potter universe

2) Evanescence for lyrics and inspiration (in bold and italic)

3) And the quote from the fab Ian McEwan book 'Atonement' which is in plain italics

Finally HUGE thanx to me beta Jewel for making my writing make sense!

****

**Haunted**

****

_"I'll wait for you. Come back to me."_

**_'Long lost words whisper slowly to me'_**

****

            The wind filtered through the wayward strands of platinum-blonde, whispering the words of distant memories. Syllables floated through the twisted canal of his ear, reaching the eardrum, vibrating the tiny hairs present, imprinting their sentiments on the back of his skull. His eyes were no longer the intense pools that he had once been so proud of. Their perfection had been tainted by the years of fighting and bloody battles that they had had to bear witness to. Flashes of bright silver had dulled to a relatively boring grey; were they no longer special.  That did not mean, however, that they had altered in their function, for right now their gaze was trained on the finger that lay a breath away from the plastic square that formed the door bell. Every so often a moment of bravery would run through him, and he would actually bring himself to touch the button. But too soon it would jolt away almost as if it had been burned. This had happened several times in the last few minutes, and although he had resigned himself to the fact that he couldn't go through with this, his feet refused to follow that train of thought and remained stubbornly planted on the stone slabs outside her front door.   

**_                        'Still can't find what keeps me here'_**

****

****What could he offer her? This question had plagued him all the way through the sparse corridors of the new Ministry of Magic when he had gone in search for Potter. He had not wanted to seek out his previous adversary. However he had no choice. He could no longer wander the manor, be it in the day or the night, thinking of her, suffering from the onslaught of emotions her memory bestowed upon him. The pleasantness that a full night's sleep brought was something he could no longer recall, and the action of picking up a knife and fork and delving into a plate of food was rusty from lack of practice. Her words and her image had propelled him to keep fighting, even when he wanted nothing more than to curl up and die. She gave him something to live for and the want to survive quelled his desire for defeat. Yet now that he was free of the constraints of war and espionage, her words and memory brought nothing but torment. He could not be saved until he was with her. His arms craved to wrap themselves around her.   

            It had taken a long time before he had made that step through the door that was marked by a gold plaque to be the office of Harry Potter. The man behind the desk, which was covered by sheets of loose paperwork, had not been able to hide his shock at seeing the pale faced figure from his childhood. Of course, there had been rare occasions when they had passed by one another in the secret head office of the order during the war. But they had simply ignored each other, the years of childish bickering still not forgotten.

"What do you want, Malfoy?" The green eyes had narrowed in suspicion. The lips tilted into an expression that could be at best described as a scowl.

Draco had not been able to stop the annoyance that his appearance had generated within him. Despite all the information he had provided, the great Harry Potter still regarded him as a foe, a snake which had some how managed to slip their condemning grasps.

"Nice office, Potter," the sarcasm had been evident. "The ministry obviously couldn't afford to splash out on the 'Saviour of the wizarding world.'"

The scowl had wavered before collapsing into a slight frown, a whisper of a sigh escaping the lips.

"I don't have time to trade insults with you. Say what you want to say, and then leave." He had not even looked at Draco when he had given his orders. His eyes had returned to the typed piece of paper that was grasped in the fingers of his right hand. No doubt trying to show how busy he was.

"I want to know where she is."

There had been no need to put a name to the 'she,' the way the fingers had instantly released that all important paper was evidence enough that he had understood exactly who Draco was talking about.

"Why should I tell you? You have nothing to offer her."

            And there it was. That question again. Hitting his hopes like a sledgehammer. What did he have to offer her? Five years of war had tired him. With each body that had collapsed dead at his feet from his doing, it felt as if one more portion of his soul had seeped out of him. He had killed so many that he doubted whether there was anything left within him to give to her.  

**_                        'When all this time I've been so hollow inside'_**

****

            If that was true what was the point of going to see her. But then he realised she was still there, interweaved within the intricacies of his heart, keeping it pumping. The part of him that belonged to her provided more life within him than his damaged soul ever could.**__**

****

**_                        'I know you're still here'_**

****

So what if it was purely for selfish reasons. The need to fulfil his own desire.**__**

****

"He loved her, and he couldn't live without her any longer."

That was what he had told Potter, and it was that thought that drove the last spurt of bravery through his system as he finally pressed the door bell. The high pitched noise could be heard from his position outside the house, as too the shuffling of feet towards the door. Each click of the locks opening caused Draco's heart to start beating just that little bit faster. He watched in nervous anticipation as the door was opened millimetre by millimetre, until at last she stood before him. Her curly hair had been drawn into a hastily placed ponytail, the drips of water from the wet strands taking a tortuous course from the curve of her neck to the area covered by her dressing robe. Both were unable to form the words that were bursting to be released, as all their muscles seemed to be frozen in ecstatic shock.    **__**

****

"I've been waiting for so long," she finally stated.

"Well, I'm back now,"****he replied.

**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000Start flashback**

                        **_'Watching me' _**

            Her gaze felt like a thousand pin pricks continuously biting at his flesh from the top of his head to the tips of his fingers. He picked at the scrambled eggs that lay uneaten on his plate; her constant attention had made him lose his appetite as soon as he had stepped into the great hall. With two large, brown eyes she had been able to generate waves of sickness that rippled through the lining of his stomach, making the ability to keep any food down longer than a few seconds non existent. Her weird obsession with him had started a couple of months back. At first there had only been a few subtle glances from the corner of her eye that only he had caught. But now it appeared that she had thrown caution to the wind and was obviously staring at him, with no attempt to hide it. Even Pansy, a girl whose observational skills were second to none had noticed Granger's behaviour.

"The mudblood's staring at you again," she had remarked loudly and bluntly. She had looked at him, expecting him to solve the riddle.

Draco had simply shrugged. He had no idea what was going on under that bushy hair, and truthfully he hadn't cared.

"Maybe she fancies you," she had squealed, clapping her hands excitedly, mockingly. Her actions had produced a burst of laughter from the other Slytherins that were dining on the table. For how could such an ugly, pristine, pure Gryffindor mudblood fall in love with an arrogant, cold hearted Pureblood? And they had yet to touch on the well known hatred between the two characters. Any conceivable notion that there could be feelings of love shared by either party were seen as impossible, an idea so unbelievable that it was laughed at. Of course Draco had taken part in the moment of hilarity, believing it to be just as ridiculous as the rest of them.

            But then the odd look had transformed to a stalker status that could rival even that of Creevey to his beloved Potter. Maybe she did want him. And why not? He had slowly lost the sharp, pointy features that had been the frequent butt of insults in his younger years. Instead they had been replaced with classic lines and forms, giving a face fit for an angel- or that's what many of his past lovers had said. So who was to say the mudblood wasn't immune to his obvious charms?   

****

**_                        'Wanting me'_**

****

            At first Draco could not deny that he had felt flattered. His ego enjoying the stroking that her thorough assessments of him in classes and in hallways would give him. She may be the only girl to hit him, and the only girl that he wanted to hit back, but she was still a girl, and he was still a boy, and attraction was attraction. However what came as a shock to the system was when he caught himself sneaking glances at her. It was one thing being admired. But to be admiring was an action that was unforgivable. Despite the internal voice telling him it was wrong, his eyes would still draw their gaze up to her tiny form as she strode in front of him in her distinct purposeful stride. He had been careful to not watch her when she was watching him. At times he had felt like he was playing a game, but the reality of his actions would flatten that idea as soon as it formed in his head.

            What he was doing was bad. Wrong. He had started to notice how she would bite her lip when she encountered a particularly hard problem in Arithmacy, two sharp teeth feasting on the deep red flesh of her mouth. The way her eyes would wrinkle in the corners when someone near her cracked a joke, the sparkle of amusement bringing her eyes to life. Or how she would rub the middle finger of her right hand during the exams, trying to soothe the heat that her relentless scribbling had caused. She was by no means beautiful in a conventional sense: her nose too flat, her figure fuller than the other girls in her house, her posture hunched from the constant pull on her shoulders by the heavy bag she was determined to drag around school.

                        **_'I can feel you pull me down_**'

And yet Draco couldn't stop the softening of his harsh grey eyes as they glanced at her. It was fruitless in his fight to put an end to the flutters of a million tiny butterflies that flapped mercilessly in his insides as she walked past him. Her delicate perfume bathing him in a scent that brought his mind spiralling to a standstill. Minutes after she had left he could still smell her, and instead of finding it revolting as he should, he found it strangely comforting.

Perhaps that's why at this precise moment he wanted nothing more than to vomit all over the squeaky clean hall floor. He needed to wretch these feelings out of him. Whatever they were, whatever they meant. It had to end, and today was the best day for it. Determined he stabbed a piece of cold scrambled eggs on his fork and shoved it into his mouth. Chewing and swallowing quickly before his body had the chance to gag.

One.

Two.

Three seconds, and the food was still inside. He was cured, he thought proudly.

            That was before the disobedient voice in his head whispered that one more look wouldn't hurt. One last glance. He cautiously flicked his gaze around the table making sure that all his classmates were too caught up in their own business to catch his slip-up. Convinced that all was clear his eyes darted straight to the brown haired witch at the far end of the hall. His grey eyes drank her in, taking their fill before the ban was in place. Her mouth was parted ever so slightly, her lips wet from the pumpkin juice she had just sipped. He could feel his next breath catch in his throat. His mind commencing on a train of thoughts that he hoped his mother would never be privy to.

            She suddenly tilted her head, bringing her eyes in line with his own. Everything around him blurred, melding into a series of unimportant swirls, while she remained the only sharp object in his view. He felt himself flying through the air, being sucked straight into wide, honest, brown eyes. His arms flailed widely as he swam in the emotions that were held within their depths, trying desperately to see what they were. His heart was pounding so much. He could hear its rhythm as if it were a drum being banged relentlessly next to his ear. And as soon as she smiled revealing a row of perfect teeth his heart burst inside his chest. She was smiling at him. Genuinely smiling at him. Happiness radiated from her. It was then that Draco forced himself to look away.            **__**

****

****His fork clattered****onto his plate as his trembling hand lost its grip on the metal handle. Why did she have to do this to him? Especially today.

His life had always been so uncomplicated, difficult emotions were cast aside and were replaced by obedience and duty. Malfoys weren't meant to feel anything apart from their need to pursue a world free of mudbloods and muggles. That was how Draco had been brought up, and he had never found a need to question it. But over the past months she had been hammering away at the barrier that was that belief, and with one shared look today she had created a crack that could see it crumbling before his eyes. It was obvious in her eyes and in her manner she cared for him…loved him? Draco found great difficulty thinking those words in his head. He had never known anyone who loved him. There had been lust of course, rushed and passionate, but it lacked the pureness that love had in abundance. As for his parents, he was merely a person who served to continue the Malfoy line and ways.  Love was never an issue.

She presented him with something that was completely new and unnatural to him, and in truth it scared him.     **__**

****

**_                        'Fearing you loving me'_**

****

****But then, perhaps, the greater fear was the possibility that those feelings he got whenever she was near was due to the fact that he cared for her in return.

He pushed the plate of food away from him, smashing it into Pansy's plate who sat opposite him. The clunk of the cutlery brought those around him to a standstill, as forks going into mouths stopped mid-air and eyes turn to stare at the source of the noise. He could feel Pansy's wide eyed gaze boring into him, but that didn't matter.

How could he care for her?

He needed to get out of here. Out of anywhere where she was present. Maybe if he did then it would all go away.

                        **_'I won't let you pull me down'_**

Draco stood up quickly, his chair banging to the floor. He now had the attention of the whole hall, faces looking up wondering what he would do next. And they watched as the tall, blonde Slytherin exited the dining room in his usual grand style.    ****

****

****

0000000000000

            Hermione watched as Draco practically ran from the hall, his black robes bellowing behind him. In a blink of an eye she was out of the door, following his hasty footsteps through the windy corridors of Hogwarts.****Despite the sound of his clicking heels becoming more and more distant, so much so that she had to strain to hear them she knew she was on the right track. She was like a trained hunter, completely in tuned to her chosen prey. She could practically taste the aura he gave off on the tip of her tongue; the sharp taste tingling her taste buds, his cologne filling her senses.

****

**_                        'Hunting you I can smell you ...._**

**_                          Alive'_**

****

****She couldn't explain why this had all started. When he managed to wheedle his way into her mind, into the gaps of her heart. But it was all she could think about in lessons, in the library. Everywhere she shouldn't be. There was no reason for it. She had no need to seek him out for refuge; she had plenty of friends for that. She was not the victim of abuse able to identify with another sufferer. Nor had she suddenly fallen for his good looks, personally she had always thought his skin gave him the appearance of being extremely ill and his chin still too pointy.

And yet she loved him, so much it was tearing her apart not being able to touch him, be close to him.

He was able to produce a buzz in her that nobody else could. When he was near shivers would run madly up and down her spine, and the skin of her arms would tingle with nervous anticipation at the possibility of an innocent brush against his in a crowded hall way. And when her wish came true her heart would beat frantically in her chest, its violent rhythm pounding in her head. At times she found herself wondering whether his did the same. And if it was in sync with her own?    **__**

****

**_                        'Your heart pounding in my head'_**

****

00000000000000

            She was coming. He could hear the dull thump of her sensible flat, black shoes echoing off the walls. It was getting louder and louder. What the hell was the password? His brain was undergoing the now traditional slowing down of activities as her scent was beginning to creep upon him like a poison.

"Just let me in will you. You know who I am!" Draco yelled. The force of his voice was enough to rustle the chiffon shawl that lay on the shoulders of young, annoying woman in the portrait. She gasped in indignation, and in an exaggerated movement moved her head to one side, her nose up in the air. Draco looked round anxiously. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on his brow. He turned back to the painting. Desperate times.....

"Please, Winifred." His voice oozing with charm, teeth on full display, his grey eyes shining with a tempting mix of mischief and amusement. Her head tilted slightly, her stony composure faltering slightly as the heat from his gaze was bringing a rosy-red blush to her cheeks.   **__**

****

"Now open up!" Draco screamed in her face. Her eyes widened in fear, but she soon returned to her previous resolute position; however her lips were quivering ever so slightly. The ugly voice and the glinting eyes sending tremors through her.

"Crap."

He would have to go elsewhere. His left foot was just about to step in front of his right****when he felt the touch of a pale hand on his sleeve.

****

He spoke before she had chance to open her mouth." Why are you doing this? Everywhere I look you're there."

**_                        'Watching me'_**

****

            His tone had startled her and her eyes enlarged in shock, making them look even more beautiful than they already were. Her cheeks were tinted with a vibrant red, and her wild hair tumbled in messy waves down her shoulders. Despite the thick layer of wool separating them he could feel his skin beneath her hand warming from her touch. He could feel himself losing the ability to think, and the train of thoughts that whizzed in his head had all but disappeared.

"Why do you love me?" he whispered before speech was completely lost to him.**__**

****

**_                        'Wanting me'_**

****

            She looked up at him, a small smile tilting her lips. In tentative movements she brought her hand up to his hair and began running her fingers along a single strand that had caught her attention. Unconsciously, he leaned into her touch, enjoying the calming effect it had on his nerves.    

"I can't explain it," she started saying, her eyes glazing over in thought. "Words can't describe it, probably because it was never meant to be." She smiled slightly.

"Everything and everybody sets of alarms in my head telling me this is not real. That it's purely a mistake. Trust me, I've tried to ignore it." A puff of laughter punctuated her speech.

"Tried to blame it on away on stupidness on my part. But nothing can stop my heart pounding in my chest or my fingers from shaking at my side when you walk past me. I thought it was just attraction, a case of teenage hormones. But even when the most spiteful words were being uttered by your lips, the abusive terms cutting into me, I wanted nothing more than to be insulted by you forever, just so I could be close to you. Near enough to love you."

            There it was. That weight that had been crushing her for the past few tortuous months had finally disintegrated away with the confession. She suddenly felt giddy. Happy that it was all out. The fact that he had not said a word, or that his face had gone a shade lighter did not affect her in the slightest.

"You feel it too, don't you?" she questioned. Her curious finger had left his hair and was now skimming along his jaw, teasing his sensitive skin.

"Sometimes I can feel your eyes on the back of my neck in potions. Or how you glaze over when I walk past you in the corridor. And just now when you looked at me in the hall."

She looked into his eyes, trying to see something, anything. She pushed it one step further.

"You understand how I feel don't you?"

Her whole palm was now resting on his cheek. Who knew his skin was so soft, she wondered inwardly. She stepped closer towards him, lifting herself off the balls of her heels. Her lips were now separated from his by only a millimetre of air. Her throat was getting dry, and her breathing was getting heavy. She was so close.

"You know what it's like to have the blood boiling in your veins."

Her words stroked the smooth slopes of his mouth, hinting to the sensation her lips would produce if given the chance to touch his own. And in truth Draco wanted nothing more than to find out.

                        **_'I can feel you pull me down'_**

            Somehow during the time she was speaking his right hand had taken up a position on the curve of her hip, latching her small body next to his own. In the seconds that passed he slowly began pulling her closer towards him, pressing the curves of her figure against him, delighting in the ripples of pleasure that flooded through him with the action. If it was possible the lips that had taken up so much of his attention in the past few months were even closer. There was now the briefest glimmer of contact; he could taste the sweetness of her pumpkin juice. Or was that just her? He was gradually leaning in..........

"I love you."

Her words came out as a whisper but he heard it like three separate, harsh gun shots. They deafened him, bringing back that fear that filled him in the great hall ten fold.

What was he doing?     

 **__**

**_"_**Shut up," he murmured the thought in his head coming to form on his lips. Her eyes flicked opened, her pupils dilated with the emotion that Draco dreaded. Even if she was lying with her mouth, her eyes always told the truth.

"Don't touch me with your filthy hands." He shoved her away from him. He had expected her to fall, but he was surprised. She possessed strength that he would never had guessed she had. She merely took a couple of fairy steps backwards, meaning she was still too close for comfort. It made things harder. It made a task he had never found difficult in the past the hardest thing he had ever done in his life.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." He couldn't look at her as he lied.

"There is no way I could ever sink to a level that would see me dirty myself with a foolish mudblood. So fuck off to Potter and Weasley, or anyone else who can spare time to listen to you because frankly, I don't give a shit." The last part had come out in a rush of sentences, the words running into one another. He had hoped to hurt her. To make her leave. But he could still see the Gryffindor badge that was stitched on her black robes in his line of vision. If she wouldn't leave he would have to be the one to go. His feet began to move when she called out to him. 

"You're scared. You don't have to be. Dumbledore will protect you from your parents. There's no need to be afraid of them."  **__**

****

Draco stopped in his tracks.

Why was she always assuming things?

****

But more importantly why was she always right?

He was scared. He was afraid of his father, of the future that he had seemed so certain of before but now dreaded. Was she right? Did she have the answer to all the problems that he couldn't solve and didn't want to face? Could he be saved?

**_'Saving me'_**

****

            ****Of course not. Life wasn't that simple. It wasn't just his parents he would be betraying. He turned round, facing her face that was slick with wet tears and looking into her eyes that held nothing but hope. But he was going to shatter that. He had no hope in his life and she needed to know that.

****

"What about Voldemort, how can he protect me from him?"

She looked surprise for a second before replying in the same sincere tone that had marked her previous statement. "He can. I promise you."

Draco let out a bitter laugh. It was amazing how she always saw the silver lining under the storm clouds. She seemed to live in a world where good would always triumph over evil. Well that wasn't always true.

 "Tell that to the Diggorys."

She seemed to ignore him as she quickly jumped in before his lips had time to sound the 's' on diggorys. "Just tell him, and you'll be safe. Any way why would Voldemort want you? You're only a boy.'

"I'm not a boy, Hermione, and the sooner you realise that the better. We're not going to be in school any longer. Hogwarts and Dumbledore cannot protect us forever. I'm a man, and I have already sworn my allegiance to the Dark Lord. Tonight is to be my initiation ceremony."

He watched as her mouth fell open into a 'o'. Her eyes losing the hope that had caused them to shine so brightly only moments ago. It was time for the kill, to bury this into the past for both of them. He stepped closer towards her, at the same time her right foot raised off the floor as if to step back. He smiled in victory.

"So, do you still love me? Knowing that one day it will be me killing your friends. Perhaps even your family.**_" _**He added the last bit to knock the final nail into the coffin that housed her feelings. In truth, he doubted he could ever do that. He was probably always the failure his father had declared he was.

Assuming that the end had come, he waited for her to leave. But he was frustrated to see her right foot come stubbornly back to the floor.

****

"You won't. I know you won't. You're not like any of them."

She was shouting at him. The stupid girl was actually shouting at him. 

"How do you know?" He was yelling back.

"I just know.**_"_**

****

Her hand was back on his face, smoothing out the wrinkles of confusion. Her eyes peeling the layers that protected him, until she was finally looking straight into his soul.  

****

**_'Raping me'_**

****

He could feel her probing within him.

Seeing the love that was hidden there.

The goodness that was battling with the evil.

And what's more he could see it too.

"I have to go." He said quietly.

****

**_'Watching me'_**

****

****With the password still deluding him he had no choice but to stalk down one of the corridors, her eyes on him. While her final words followed him down his path....

****

_"I'll wait for you. Come back to me."_

****

**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000End Flashback**

****

**_Fini_****__**

**If u've read till here do us a favour and review, cheers!**

****

A/N Only got two reviews 4 my last chapter = v.v. sad author. It does take time to type these, so it would really be nice to know that people are reading my story, and whether or not they enjoy it. So please cud u review, it'll make my day. (I've had really horrible exams this term so i definitely need the cheering up violins playing in the background)

Thanx luv cedar1


	5. Bring me to life

**Different Paths**

**By Cedar1**

A/N not updated this in ages. First off thanx to those who reviewed last time me19 and Adri, they really made my day.

This story has got slightly more adult content so am bumping the rating from PG-13 to R, hope this is alrite?

Disclaimer: U know the drill. Rowling for Characters and Evanescence for lyrics and inspiration.

Beta who is a star Jewel!

**Bring me to Life**

I find myself staring at the black lines that are tattooed into the flesh of his forearm. The poisonous ink curves into the intricate design of the Dark Mark. It is amazing how something so small, so painfully delicate, could dictate so many people's lives and at the same time ruin so many.

It's hard to explain why I'm here, lying in a Death Eater's bed, my body still recovering from the waves of pure ecstasy that he had subjected to it only hours ago and my heart still racing in my chest. It's especially hard when you know it was because of his kind that I've lost two of the most important people in my life.

My fingers begin to trace the mark, following the loops and the twists that form the snake and skull. _How do you have so much power? _

His eyes suddenly flick open, staring straight into mine. He knows what I am thinking, what I need.

_**How can you see into my eyes like open doors**_

_**Leading you down into my core**_

Maybe I'm lying here in this bed because he's the only one who can make me feel.

_**00000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**Start Flash back_

I smiled back, completing the polite gesture with a nod of thanks in their direction. I was so used to it now that their pitying comments about my situation were just background noise to the routine that was my life. A year had passed since the end of the war. Three hundred and fifty-six days had been and gone since their deaths. It had been the anniversary today. I had gone on earlier, before the official ceremony began, prior to the arrival of the remaining Weasleys and our friends from Hogwarts. I had placed the models of quidditch players weaved from elderwood onto their graves amongst the lilies and orchids that were continually being replenished by those paying their respects. Holding my skirt behind me, I sat down on the grassy bank, my legs folding into a cross legged position. This was the only way we could all be together now, like old times, apart from the fact that I was the only one alive...

Well, living.

Alive meant something completely different.

It was something I no longer was.

Two hours passed with me like that. The grass was starting to bring a reddening rash onto my bare legs and I could feel the wetness of the ground beneath seeping through the thin black material of my skirt. I had thought that today of all days that I would cry. That those tears of painful grief would roll down my face and onto the graves of my friends. Yet nothing came, despite the fact that I had been staring at the intricate lettering spelling out 'Harry Potter' and 'Ronald Weasley' engraved onto the stone slabs until my eyes stung. I got up, defeated.

Two hours, and I hadn't shed a single tear. They reasoned that shock was the explanation for my dry face when I had seen their bodies, stiff and cold, on the dusty earth of the battlefield. Then it was 'an inner turmoil so great that tears could not even fight their way to the surface' at their funeral. Now I just rationalised that it was because I too had died when they had. That my soul had slipped from my body together with my friends that day. That all I was now was an empty, cold shell.

_**Where I've become so numb without a soul**_

Emotions describe words I can't seem to express anymore. All those traits that I had become so known for: stubbornness, a quick temper, compassion, generosity, warmth – hidden away somewhere, lying dormant, unused, cold.****

_**My spirit sleeping somewhere cold**_

I had somehow wandered down Diagon Alley, my legs just seeming to walk on their own accord, taking me past happily families, loved-up couples and groups of friends laughing raucously. A twinge of jealously sparked in my mind, before dying the next minute. My mind in a haze I hadn't been looking where I had been going, and I whacked into something hard and unfortunately human. I apologized without looking up and was all for just leaving it at that but the person wouldn't move out of my way.

I just wanted to be alone. It was then that I heard it, his voice, taunting, drawling.

"Haven't seen you for a long time, Granger."

What could have been a polite question sounded anything but coming from his mouth.

"Been mourning the loss of your boyfriends?"

So childish and at the same time so untrue because didn't mourning mean crying.

"Does it hurt? Do you cry yourself to sleep at night?"

His words weren't having the affect that he had hoped, and I could hear the displeasure in his voice. He wanted anger, but all I felt was guilt, cold guilt.

"Can't you hear what I'm saying? What the fuck is wrong with you? Well, you know what they deserved it, and if I had my way you would be with them too."

I don't know what happened then or why it was that particular comment that did it. But something lit within me.

_**Until you find it there and lead it back home**_

I grabbed him. My hands slammed onto his face with a deciding smack and I pulled him towards me, my anger fuelling the surge of strength I didn't think I had within me. I caught the widening of his grey eyes and inwardly delighted in the state of shock that I had provoked. Well, fuck him. I'll show him. I'll show him I don't need Harry or Ron. I'm strong enough to survive on my own. That there is something left in me. I planted my mouth firmly on his, furiously sucking and biting his lips. At first he did nothing. His arms were limp by his side and his lips remained motionless against my assault. But then suddenly, as if something had clicked in that pretty little head of his, he started kissing back. Tasting the cheap lip-gloss I had haphazardly put on this morning with the tip of his tongue. Hands blessed with long, elegant fingers had some how slipped under my skirt and began playing with the skin of my thighs. Rough fingertips caressing in wonderful circular motions. I moaned despite knowing that this was wrong, that my little plan had escalated into something that was spinning out of my control. I could feel my common sense slipping out of me as his lips had descended onto my neck, teasing the sensitive skin that lay below my jaw. I could see myself running after something in my mind. A length of pure silk flying right in front me, my soul. Each time a breeze took it that little bit further away but some how I managed to grasp it at the corners, holding it tightly between my fingertips. But then when he lifted my legs off the floor and positioned them so they were wrapped round his waist that bit of silk was now entwined fully round my fingers.

**_Wake me up inside_**

_**Wake me up inside**_

****The bricks of the wall that he was forcefully pushing me against dug through my linen shirt and punctured the skin of back. I hissed in an addictive mixture of pain and pleasure for it was at that moment that his fingers were skimming along the edge of my overly sensible knickers, grazing almost lazily from the white cotton to my burning flesh.

The sound of popping buttons vibrated in my head as the crisp air hit the skin of my now exposed stomach. Tender touches to my abdomen, to my breasts, began making my head spin, my body feel light in his arms. It had been so long since I had felt anything like this, been so long since I had felt anything at all. It was this need that drove my fingers to make their hesitant path to the zip of trousers. They were trembling against the material of his pants, and it was then that I realised I couldn't do this. That this was wrong. All wrong. What would they say? What would Harry and Ron say if they saw me with my mourning clothes crumpled and hitched up my thighs while the man we hated was devouring the skin of my neck? I could imagine them staring at me. Disapproval shining through their eyes. Their dead eyes. They were dead. They were dead, and I hadn't even been able to shed a tear. Instead, I was about to fuck Malfoy. I could feel myself retreating back to place I came from. That dark, cold place.

Malfoy must have realised that he was losing me. My fingers had stopped moving and my body felt heavy and limp.

"Hermione."

He had never spoken my Christian name, and my eyes flickered to his face in surprise. I was even more shocked to see the concerned expression on his beautiful face, his brow furrowed and his lips tilted downwards.

"Hermione."

This time my name was accompanied with a gentle stroke of my cheek. His fingers sliding to my lips. The simple action was enough to start ripples of pleasure from the position of his fingertips.

"Say it again," I urged.

"Hermione. Hermione. Hermione."

Each time my name was punctuated with kiss, whether it was to my neck, to my collarbone, to my left breast. I could feel myself being pulled away from the dark.

_**Call my name and save me from the dark**_

In return, I encouraged him more and more, even daring to call him 'Draco'. For I wanted him to do this before I had time to think about it, before I could scream out 'No' as logic and reason invaded my mind.

_**Bid my blood to run before I come undone**_

As he entered me. Thrusting into me. Filling me something that I had gone so long without.

_**Save me from the nothing I've become**_

Feelings.

Feelings of warmth, heat, not cold, not guilt.

I felt happy.

So happy that I was moaning his name again and again.

_**0000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000**End Flash back_

As I had walked away from that encounter my legs shaking, his taste still coating my lips I had vowed that I would never do that again. That he had been a one off. But I was weak. I was addicted to the emotions that erupted inside me when I was with him, and I found myself searching him out. I scoured the streets that I knew he tread, looking for the strands of blonde hair whipping through the wind. Waiting for him outside his office, even when the rain had soaked my clothes and froze my skin. In return to my dedication, he never said no. He would always find somewhere where we could go and relinquish ourselves to each other.

Perhaps if I hadn't had kissed him that first day I wouldn't be lying in his bed right now. I wouldn't have remembered what it was like to feel pleasure, to feel the tingles down my spine, to feel the burning anticipation of being the object of someone else's lust, and it wouldn't have mattered. I would have gone on with my life the same way I had done over the past year.

But I can't now.

_**Now that I know what I'm without**_

Staring into his slate eyes I can see what he's going to say. I never used to. In the past they were merely slabs of stone or maybe I was never really that interested to see what was beyond his exterior. Yet now I can see the slithers of emotions that slide between the cracks, the thoughts that filter through to the surface of grey pools.

He's going to say _he has to go. That today would have to be the last time. That she would be dressed and waiting for him in expensive white silk, a bouquet of freshly cut flowers already prepared resting on her side table. _

He hadn't lied to me, hadn't kept silent about his marriage. I thought I would be able to deal with it when the time came, and that I would no longer need him.

I was lying to myself.

He begins to rise, the sheets sliding off the smooth marble that was his body. I find my eyes closing as I hear a thump – his feet landing on the plush carpet.

I can't stop my hand flying through the air and then landing on his shoulder. He tenses up. I can feel the muscles bunching under my fingertips. Tears begin leaking from my eyes as I realise he isn't going to turn around, instead he starts to lift himself off the bed, taking my arm with him. Then it happened again. Strength exploded within me and I found the power to push him back down.

_**You can't just leave me**_

He finally looks round. His mouth is tilted in a frown and his eyes glimmer with threads of anger. He likes being in control, except for that first time, he's always been the dominant one. Well not today. It's his fault I crave him in the first place I reasoned, so he'd have to suffer the consequences of my behaviour.

In truth I just want one more kiss.

One simple kiss.

One last chance to feel alive.

_**Breathe into me and make me real**_

I lean towards him, while he remains motionless. It makes me think he won't do it. Centimetres turn into millimetres and still he has yet to move a single muscle. The sparks of life that he had generated within me were being reduced to wisps of smoke as each second passed.

Then he crashed his lips upon mine while his hands aggressively pulled on the straps of my nightgown. And those sparks that had died moments ago burst into life.

_**Bring me to life**_

We fall back onto the bed, hands eagerly reaching out for each other. Touching. Exploring. His lips are on my skin, trailing over each and every cell of my body. I can feel a storm of pleasure stirring within me and as he covers my mouth with his it whips my thoughts into jumbled whirlwind. I can't think, I can only respond.

_**Wake me up inside**_

_**Wake me up inside**_

I arch into the kiss, deepening it. My hands are planted on the back of his head, fingers wrapped round silken strands, pushing him further into me. Dark spots are appearing in the back of my head as the oxygen within my lungs starts to run out. The thought then hits me, hard and unwanted. This will be the last time. The last time I'll experience emotions so strong that breathing no longer matters to me. I immediately release him from my hold, our lips part with a resounding smack. The darkness that had been a part of me for so long in the past starts to creep upon me once more. I was to return to being an empty shell again.

"Hermione."

He's calling me.

"Hermione."

A low voice pulling me away from my inner grief.

_**Call my name and save me from the dark**_

The way his tongue curls round my name, and the gentle touch of his lips on my cheeks are enough to bring me back, and I start kissing him in return. But the kisses are not enough to stop the tears that are sliding from my eyes. It's funny I can't cry for Harry and Ron, but I can for Draco. The thought makes me cry more, and I force my body over him, so he is now the one under me. He doesn't like it; his hands have stopped travelling along me. I kiss him harshly before he can't verbally object, pushing my tongue into his mouth. At the same time I grab his motionless hands and start to move them for him. He likes this even less. I know because his lips become slack and unresponsive. Tears are coming down faster and faster now, and I can only manage to chock a mumbled "Please" in his direction.

_**Bid my blood to run before I come undone**_

There's a moment of silence, his face a picture of contemplation, before he reaches out for me.

I know I'm bad. I know I'm a disgrace. Crying for a Death Eater and not my best friends. I know this makes me a 'nothing,' an insignificant piece of shit. But when he pulls me on top of him I temporarily forget that.

_**Save me from the nothing I've become**_

He's getting ready now; washing his face, passing his fingers through his hair, tying the robe at the waist. I watch him move around the room, his steps pounding in my head. One last check in the mirror. I catch his eye in the reflective glass. My eyes plead with him to stay. He looks away. I bend my head in shame.

Why am I like this?

I know. I know it's those feelings he makes me feel that I yearn. So what's to say I can't get them from somewhere else? Some other warm body.

Who am I kidding?

The things I feel are only because they're coming from him. It's his touch. His kisses. I'm cold without them.

_**Frozen inside without your touch without your love**_

It's because I love him. The thought comes into my head sharp and clear.

I love him.

He's the only one still alive that I love so dearly, so painfully.

_**Darling only you are the life among the dead**_

But it's all too late. He's out of the door, out of my life.

**00000000000000000000000**

He closed the door behind him. Shutting her out of his life, and yet he had still not moved away from the room. His feet were cemented onto the floor, stuck down by a moment of sudden realisation.

It had been months since this had all started but he had been blind to the reasons behind it, until now.

_**All this time I couldn't see **_

He had always thought he had been doing this to get his own twisted kicks. Fucking the mudblood. He had known that she had changed – walking around like a living corpse, and in his sick mind he thought that made it even more fun. Playing with her when she was at her most fragile, a perfect revenge for all the snide comments and painful hexes that had been directed at him during his school days. He had wanted to make her fall in love with him, so that when he finally left her – which he would – he would cause the greatest pain.

He thought that in the end he would be marrying the person he loved, Blaise, but he wasn't. The woman he loved was the woman next to him only a few hours ago. The person that had taken up most of his time in the past few months.

His head had been so clouded with plans that it had obscured and shadowed the most obvious thing.

_**Kept in the dark but you were there in front of me**_

Draco shook his head in self- belief. When had he become so unobservant? He had always thought he could read anyone but now it seemed he could not even read himself.

_**I've been sleeping a thousand years it seems**_

_**Got to open my eyes to everything**_

****It would be hard. He would have to inform everyone that the wedding was off. Blaise would no doubt attempt to throw something in his direction, maybe not the ring, it was too expensive and she loved the enormous diamond too much to consider returning it to him. Though that would not be the hardest thing. It would be the fact that he would have to explain why he was doing what he was. The gasps of horror and looks of disgust on his peers that would surely appear when he did so was enough for Draco to rethink he decision.

He would eventually forget about her.

He could marry Blaise; make his mother happy and perhaps his dead father too.

Live a life with a woman he did not love.

Raise children he probably would never fully care for.

Lead an empty life.

_**Without a thought without a voice without a soul**_

Draco shook he head once more, at the same time scolding himself for his cowardice. He looked down the hallway, an elderly house elf was starting to make his way up to him, in his arms rested an immaculate black robe, perfect for any groom. Draco only had to take a few steps and his path would be chosen. He left foot was rising off the ground when a voice suddenly screamed in his head, _don't be such a pathetic weakling. Don't kill us just because you're so weak. You know you don't have to do it. You know you can do something else. _

_**Don't let me die here there must be something more**_

****For once Draco listened to his heart instead of his head and turned round to open his bedroom door. She was curled up on his bed. Her head resting on her bare legs, which in turn were wrapped within her arms. She lifted her head. She smiled at him, a toothy grin and he smiled back.

Within two strides she was in his arms and he was kissing her, relishing the feelings she unleashed within him.

_**Bring me to life**_

He loved her. He had always loved her. What he had thought was an act of vengeance was simply a veil hiding his true feelings. He had pitied her at first. Her vacant expression. Her dead eyes. Kissing her had been the only way to bring back the girl he used to remember, a girl full of life. But along the way, he had been sucked into the feelings she generated within him.

She needed him in the same way he needed her. Without each other they were nothing. Together they were alive.

A/N Review Please! It happens all a bit too quickly in the end doesn't it?

Cheers

Luv Cedar1


End file.
